


Gift

by redluna



Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Mpreg, OTB
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-20 19:21:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/890924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redluna/pseuds/redluna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the start of his new life, John has learned to accept that, as an omega, he's infertile. It doesn't much matter when his life is already consumed by training and the children from the fallen Gotham that are already underfoot.</p><p>Hence why he can't be pregnant. Nope, not at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Marked](https://archiveofourown.org/works/780371) by [Menirva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menirva/pseuds/Menirva). 



Kids, John knew, were something that just weren't in the cards for him. He probably knew it even when he was still with Phillip, at least unconsciously. He had only been so desperate to conceive back then because he knew it was what Phillip wanted. He had thought that if he could just give Phillip this one thing then the man would finally see that there was a good reason for taking him in, after all.

Yeah, John had been in a pretty shitty head space back then.

But none of that mattered now. Now he had a new mate--two of them, in fact--and neither of them got upset when his heat would pass without any signs of pregnancy coming after. He didn't even know what they'd do with a kid anyway since they already had so many little ones underfoot, all saved from the destruction of Gotham and prone to cling to him like mad. They were fond of Barsad too, though, who presented them with little slingshots so they could practice their aim and watched their scuffles with far too much interest, giving pointers afterwards. 

Even Bane had a group of little kids who would follow in his wake like ducklings chasing after their mother. According to Talia, however, it was only to be expected.

"There has always been something to him that attracts young ones," she said. "They know that with him they will be safe." There was unabashed warmth in her eyes when she looked at Bane and John had almost choked on his rice when Bane ducked in his head in what was as close to a sheepish manner as it got.

So, after being treated by almost every fertility doctor out there and having all their suggestions fail, John figured it was safe to assume he was sterile. And if sometimes he looked at the children that filled the league headquarters with a little bit of longing... Well, no one ever had to know, right?

\---

There was nothing John enjoyed more after his heat had finally broken then to wake up nestled between his mates. He just wasn't expecting that blissful peace to be disturbed by a sudden agitation in his stomach. Not wanting to leave the warmth of the bed, he closed his eyes, hoping the feeling would slip away. His eyes flew open again, however, when his stomach gave a particularly violent lurch.

He darted up from the bed when he realized exactly what was going on, barely making it to the bathroom to heave up into the toilet. He wanted to only go through it once, but his body seemed determined to heave all up all that was left in his stomach. It took him a few seconds to come back down to himself, but when he did it was to hands moving gently across his back. He wasn't surprised to discover that the hands belonged to Bane or to see that Barsad was in the room as well, face pinched with worry.

"Are you alright, Robin?" Bane asked.

John nodded, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. "Y--Yeah," he said. "It was probably something I ate."

"You will need simple foods today then." Barsad reached down to thread his fingers through John's hair. "The rice will no doubt help to settle your stomach."

Despite himself, John managed a weak laugh. "You guys are gonna be in mother hen mode all day, aren't you?" he said.

"If that's what it takes to make you well once more." Bane helped him to his feet, allowing him to take large handfuls of water from the tap to wash away the taste at the back of his throat. "We will start with light fare for breakfast and see if your stomach remains undisturbed."

If John had had any thought that they were kidding, it was banished once they sat down for the morning meal with the league and he found his mates carefully selecting what would go on his plate. Even Talia had pursed her lips thoughtfully before handing a piece of bread over to him. He shot her a confused look when he saw that the bread wasn't buttered, but she merely shook her head.

"Milk products can upset some stomachs," she explained. "It is best not to risk it."

He would have protested their near constant hovering, nearly did more than once, yet he could feel the agitation slipping through their bond and caught Talia running a soothing hand across Bane's knee. It made him think of how he would react if either Bane or Barsad (or worse, both) were to catch some unexpected sickness and bite his tongue.

They still let him train anyway, even if it was only with them. He didn't point out how light their touches were, however, not even to tease.

\--

The sickness seemed to dissipate after about a week. Everyone was relieved but John most of all. Bane had suggested putting him on bed rest if his illness persisted and Barsad's solemn nod had showed him that there would be no way out if that was the case. He knew his mates meant well, but, honestly, John would go crazy if he was stuck in bed all day. Even if he was starting to get tried out more easily these days. He was just recovering the sleep he'd lost while sick, that was all.

There were still some foods that caused his stomach to churn, like fish or tomatoes, but that didn't much matter much when he was still near ravenous for other foods. He had downed a bowl of soup that's aroma had made his mouth water, catching Kojo's puzzled expression as he asked for seconds. "What?"

"Nothing," Kojo said. "It is only... You do know what you're eating, don't you?"

"Um, something good?" John said.

Kojo chuckled. "It is rabbit," he said. "Which I find strange since you turned up your nose at the one I caught earlier this year and all those since."

John swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. "I guess I just like it when it's prepared like this instead," he said.

He didn't miss the contemplative expressions on Bane and Barsad's faces, however, and didn't protest when they sent him back to their rooms early because, well, he was feeling tried. Besides, the younger kids were just as happy to Barsad read them their bedtime story if it meant they got to cuddle with Bane.

He frowned once he got back to the room, though. He knew something was off with the space, yet he couldn't figure out what it was. Or at least not until he saw the blankets. 

By the time Bane and Barsad returned to the room an hour later, he had managed to make the bed much better with a comfortable layer of quilts and blankets. He knew he should get up to greet them, but he was too damn comfortable underneath it all too want to move.

"Hey. Did the kids go down easy then?" He frowned when he didn't get a response. "What?"

"We did not expected to return to this," Bane said. He sat down on the bed, eyebrows rising in surprise when he saw something extra peeking out from underneath the pillow on which John had placed his head. "Is that one of my shirts?"

John squirmed a little without fully realizing why he was doing so. "And Barsad's too," he said. "It's better that way." His brow furrowed when Bane exchanged a meaningful look with Barsad. "What? It's not that big of a deal." He didn't like being left out of the loop like this; it made him feel frustrated.

Barsad's fingers were in his hair a moment later as though he could read his mind, rubbing down gently against his scalp. "Are you sure you want to hear the answer, little one?" he asked.

John could feel his lower lip pushing out into something that was definitely _not_ a pout. "I'm not little," he said. "And course I want to hear it. It has to do with me, doesn't it?" His face crumpled. "Is there something wrong with me? I thought I was getting better, but..." His words slipped away as Barsad's fingers tightened in his hair and Bane placed a hand on his chest, the familiar weight soothing him.

"No, our Robin," Bane said, "it is not a bad thing at all." He slid his hand down to rest on John's stomach and just like that the answer hit John like a ton of bricks.

"Oh, fuck."


	2. Chapter 2

Bane managed to suppress his laughter but Barsad did not even seem to make the effort. He didn't stop even after Robin whacked him hard in the chest. Bane shook his head fondly at their antics until he caught sight of the expression on Robin's face. It was one that immediately caused him to sober.

Their bird looked scared.

Bane moved his hand in slow circles across Robin's stomach, drawing the man's eyes towards him. "What is wrong, Robin?" he asked. "I know this comes unexpectedly, but surely it should be seen as a blessing."

He knew that was certainly what it was to him. He had never blamed Barsad when each heat cycle passed without any conception. He coupled with his mate--and now mates--for pleasure, not out of the drive that supposedly motivated alphas to force their omegas into carrying children. Regardless, he had always been sure that the fault lay with him somehow, either within his unknown genetics or the chemicals being pushed constantly through his system from the mask. Talia had come to fulfill any latent desire to be a parent or at least to be as close to one as he knew how.

"I know but..." Robin looked down at his stomach, mouth twisted. "This just isn't something I thought could happen. I mean I tried so hard...before." He had stopped himself from naming Stryver, but the name still hung heavy in the air. If the man had not died stumbling across the ice then Bane would have sought his death himself. With the aid of Barsad, of course. "I figured it was never going to happen."

Barsad was running his fingers through Robin's hair again. "Perhaps it could not happen while you were with an unworthy mate," he said.

"So what?" Robin said. "My body decided to wait for..." He looked up into the solemn faces of his mates. "Oh."

"It is a sign that our bond is true," Bane said. "As I said--a blessing."

"So you're not..." Robin chewed on his bottom lip, a sure sign he was nervous as his eyes flicked up to Barsad. "You're not jealous or anything?"

Another burst of laughter escaped from Barsad, although this time it was tinged with surprise. "And why would I be jealous, my bird?" he asked.

Robin looked torn between being exasperated with Barsad and worried about what he was about to say. "Because you were with Bane first, weren't you? And I know you guys haven't be... Well you haven't been 'blessed' or whatever and I didn't want you to feel--"

The rest of his words were lost when Barsad slipped his hand free from Robin's hair, pressing a finger to their bird's lips. "But Robin, is this child not mine as well? Does he not belong to all of us?"

Bane supposed he should not be surprised that their Robin still stumbled over such concepts. The bond was stretched between the three of them now, thrumming to life with complete certainty, but Robin's mind was still infected with so many of the ideals contained in the society he had left behind.

"He will be loved by all of us," Bane said.

Robin lifted his eyebrows. "'He?'" he said. "Are you guys really so determined it's a boy?"

"It is too early to tell," Barsad mused. "Although I would be just as pleased with a little girl."

Bane dipped his head in agreement, stroking his thumb across Robin's stomach. "Talia would be pleased to have another girl in our midst. I believe she is already making plans on where to place the nursery. I am sure she will want our opinion."

Barsad hummed thoughtfully. "I am rather partial to reds."

Robin turned his face into the pillow with a groan. "This is insane." After a moment he added, "Shut up," because even if he couldn't see his mates grins he could definitely feel them.

\---

No doctor would ever be allowed within the walls of the league. Bane would trust none after the betrayal he suffered at the hands of the only one he thought he could trust and Talia, who had adopted both her distrust and hatred of them through Bane, would never allow one through their doors.

So what John got instead was Amalia, who was, apparently, the local healer and occasional midwife. She was also probably more skilled then any of the top paying doctors Phillip had dragged him too. All it took was some rapid fire questions as she moved gentle, if probing hands around his stomach, for her to announce that he was indeed with child.

"But I..." John cleared his throat awkwardly. "I was with someone before but this never happened. So couldn't there be the chance that this is just a fluke? That you're reading the signs wrong or something?" He swallowed when Amalia narrowed her eyes, worried that he had offended her.

"Impossible," she snapped. It didn't take long for her tone to soften, though. "Your modern societies place such importance on the alpha, thinking that his brute strength is what will drive omegas into conception, but it is not so. The instincts of an omega are a delicate thing. If the mate has not proved themselves in a proper fashion then the omega's body will deem them unworthy of producing children with them. It is an old understanding, even though it seems to have been lost."

"But how can you be so sure?" John asked.

Amalia's eyes were warm as she patted him on the knee. "My mate was trapped in an unwilling bond before I rescued her. Our first child was born only a year ago."

Bane and Barsad descended upon them almost the very same second Amalia began to back up her bag, full to brim with things John hadn't even thought to ask about. He should do his best to eat well, apparently, but it was important that he eat whatever pleased him, if preferably in big portions. The morning sickness wouldn't last forever (thank God) but a slice of caramel under the tongue could cure it in most cases. And, if he felt tried, he should most certainly sleep.

"He must keep his energy up," Amalia said. "So make sure he gets enough nutrients in his food and that he rests well. Other than that, I can already tell that you will take care of him well. He is lucky in that way."

"What about training?" Barsad asked. "Can he still participate in it?"

Amalia's brow furrowed down deeply as she considered the question. It wouldn't be safe to come up with any sort of immediate answer since that could prove dangerous. She knew how lucky she was to have the goodwill of the League of Shadows, an organization that the others in the nearby villages rightfully feared. If she were to give the wrong advice and something were to happen to child, she could not be sure that her head would remain on her shoulders for long.

"Perhaps in the early months," she said at last, "but be careful about it. He cannot be tossed around like usual anymore. It would not be safe for him or the baby."

Bane nodded, processing this as he moved to lead Amalia to the door.

"Wait!" John felt heat prickling at the back of his neck when all three heads swiveled towards him in surprise and, on his mates behalf, a bit of alarm. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to ask something." He swallowed hard. "Could Talia be my midwife?"

Amalia's eyebrows shot up but then she was smiling. "I see no reason why not," she said. "If she agrees to it then I would be prepared to teach her all she might need to know. It is an easy process."

Barsad brushed his fingers across Amalia's elbow to gain her attention. "I am sure my mate and I would want to be instructed as well then," he said. "The better to help our mate and to ensure that nothing goes wrong."

Amalia looked so ridiculously impressed in that moment that John kind of wanted to burrow his face in his hands. "Of course," she said. "One can never be too prepared."

Barsad hung behind while Bane escorted Amalia out at last, turning into his mate when Barsad wrapped an arm around him. "You two are going to be the worst mother hens _ever_ ," he muttered. "Aren't you?"

Barsad rubbed his fingers across John's neck. "I would be more worried about the men," he said, "since Bane has given Talia permission to spread the word among them. And the children, of course."

He pressed his lips together to hold back a laugh when his Robin groaned in sheer horror.


	3. Chapter 3

John knew the instant when the children must have been told because he's only out of the room he shares with Bane and Barsad for a few minutes before they all descend upon him. The younger ones seem particularly preoccupied with stretching their hands across his belly. It took him a second or two to catch onto what exactly they're trying to do, but once he got it he wound up grinning. "You won't actually be able to feel anything yet, you know." 

The kids looked so put out by this revelation that John had to fight not to laugh. The smile wasn't as easy to hold back, although none of them seemed to mind.

"When can we?" one of the girls asked. Her name was Lily, if John remembered correctly (which he nearly always did) and she was looking at his stomach with her brow furrowed in an adorable amount of concentration.

"Of course," John said. "But now I think you have lessons, don't you?" He really did laugh now when they all groaned. The lessons had been the one thing that he had insisted on since, even if he had removed the kids from their former society, he didn't see why they still couldn't learn the basics of education. Besides, they were learning a lot more under the care of the league then ever would have been allowed anywhere else.

He managed to usher the kids off easily enough, mostly through promises to come play with them later, but it wasn't long before he felt another prickle at the back of his neck. This visitor, however, was one he had expected.

"Amalia came to discuss the practices of midwifery with me," Talia said. Her eyes slid over to John. "Are you sure you want to trust me with such a task?"

"Of course I do," John said. "I don't know who else I would trust with it. Well, besides, for Bane and Barsad but they pretty much volunteered."

Talia's smile was small but warm. "I am not surprised," she said. "They will want to make sure all goes well, as will the rest of us." She nudged John lightly in the side, eyes twinkling. "You must content yourself with being coddled in the near future, I'm afraid. We will try to make sure it is not too stifling, but I make no promises." 

John groaned, already imagining just what fate awaited him. Still, it didn't take long for another thought to come to him, one that made him fidget slightly, shifting from foot to foot. "Um, Talia?" He hesitated even as she turned to give him her full attention, yet he knew that if he wanted to get this out of his system at last she would be the one to ask. He didn't want to make Bane and Barsad worry anymore than they already might be. "Are you sure that everything will be alright? I mean, I don't want to sound like I'm..."

John swallowed hard. No, he didn't want to sound like he was scared, but he was. He wanted to believe in Amalia's words, her assertion that the conditions were right now, but what if she was wrong? What if he had just gotten pregnant by some sort of fluke and as soon as his body realized it the child would be taken away? And how would Bane and Barsad act then, when their "blessing" was taken away? Would they be disappointed? Or angry with him? John wasn't sure which was worse.

Talia's brow furrowed for a mere half a second before clearing. "Oh, little bird." She wished the two of them were sitting down so that she could gather John's head into her lap, stroking her fingers through his hair like she did in the old days (and now, on occasion) when things would trouble him. As it were, however, she settled for reaching out to cup his face in her hands, running her thumbs across the line of his cheekbones. "All will be well because I know it shall be. How can it go otherwise when you will have all of us caring for you? If anything were to happen to your child then the fault would lie with us, never with you."

John gaped at her. "I could never blame any of you for that," he said. "It would be my body that would have screwed up anyway."

"Your body will do no such thing," Talia replied. "Not when it is as strong as your spirit. The child you carry will flourish like a freshly lit flame and feed off all you provide it with until it as mighty as its parents." She rocked forward onto her toes to brush her lips across his cheek. "You will see it for yourself, my brother, and soon."

\---

It as though Talia's words are some sort of prophecy. Although, to be honest, John wouldn't be surprised if she had some sort of in with fate by this point.

His body managed not to change too much throughout the first month and even a little into the next. That didn't mean everything else didn't change around him, though. He can still train, but now his lessons are restricted to things that require lighter holds and nothing that requires being thrown. Bane and Barsad are the only ones allowed to serve as teachers and sometimes he winds up learning from watching them fight instead. He might have been offended by being made to sit on the sidelines, but his mates make sure to include him offering commentary and even allowing him to come inspect some of the different attacks or holds.

The kids are still enthralled by his stomach and John even caught some of the league members staring fondly at it. It's only the kids that get away with laying their heads on or near it, though, positions that are apparently fought for during their nighttime cuddle sessions. When they come to say goodnight to John, they spread their hands across his belly, whispering words to the baby too.

John didn't think much of it until one morning he stirred towards consciousness (still in the nest he deems "perfect") as his shirt is rucked up. His face scrunched up when he felt a bit of beard scratch against his skin. He was close to opening his eyes to speak when he heard a familiar voice.

"Good morning, baby. I have to be quiet so I do not wake your mama."

That was almost enough to make John give up his ruse because, while they hadn't discussed titles yet, he most certainly hadn't expected to be called "mama". Still, he wanted to hear what Barsad was going to say more than he wanted to do anything else.

"The plans for your nursery are going well. There was quite a plan to paint it red, but your mama fought tooth and nail for it to be blue instead." Barsad chuckled. "He can be quite fierce when he wants to be, your mama, and I must admit I find it hard to deny him at times." He tapped his finger against John's stomach. "But you mustn't tell him that or he will have me spoil him rotten."

The sudden rumble of laughter from behind John made him tense. "I fear you have already told him yourself, lamb." Bane's hand, large and rough, settled around John's stomach. It was where he rested it at every opportunity in which he could get away with it. "For it seems our bird wanted to play at resting."

John tried to look suitably repent when he opened his eyes, but wound up grinning down at Barsad instead. "So I can get anything I want, can I?" he asked.

Barsad let his head thump forward (gently, of course) against John's belly while Bane merely laughed again. "You mustn't take too much advantage of our lamb," Bane said. "I do not know how to resist you myself when you are in such a state."

"You do realize you're just offering up your weak points for me," John pointed out.

Bane shifted his head forward, letting the grill of his mask brush against John's neck. "Ah, but Robin, you will always be our weakness."

The way that he said it, like a simple fact, never to be regretted, and the way Barsad hummed his assent made John slide his fingers into Barsad's hair while hooking the ones of his free hand around Bane's mask and never want to let them go.

He tolerated the morning and night conversations his mates insisted on having with the baby from then on, never admitting that he actually looked forward to them. Although he suspected Bane and Barsad already knew.

\---

It was moving steadily towards the end of the third month when Barsad returned to their room to find Robin standing before the mirror with his shirt off. "Well isn't this a lovely sight." He chuckled when Robin whirled around, clearly startled, and dodged the pillow thrown at his head.

"Bastard," Robin said, "you're not supposed to be using your ninja skills on me."

"I shall do my best to remember that," Barsad said. "Might I ask why you are in such a state?" He didn't understand why Robin shied away from his hands until they fitted properly around his mate's waist. "You are..."

"Starting to get fat," Robin said. "Yep."

There was no way Barsad couldn't laugh at that. "You are hardly fat, my bird." The curve he could feel under his fingers hadn't even formed into a proper curve yet. 

"But I will be soon." Robin frowned at his reflection in the mirror. "Soon I'm going to be waddling around looking like a swallowed a beach ball or something."

"I think a mellon might be more accurate description." Barsad grinned at Robin's indignant expression. "What is the cause of this newfound vanity? Surely you know the growth of your waistline will leave our feelings for you unchanged."

"You say that now," Robin persisted, mulishly, "but what about when I start looking like a beached wall?"

Barsad's voice was solemn as he offered up his answer. "Then I will still want to move my hands across your body until I discover each new part it has to offer for me." He rubbed his thumbs gently across the slight curve of Robin's stomach. "Such a thing shows that our child is receiving all he needs to grow in strength. He merely wants to show you and the rest of the world how he thrives.

"Oh." Robin blinked at their conjoined reflection in the mirror, but it wasn't enough to hide the misty look in them. "I didn't think of it like that." He reached up to rub at his eyes with the heel of his hand. "This is totally because of the hormones, okay?"

"Of course," Barsad said. He didn't try to come up with any sort of excuse for his own tears, however. They were all shed in joy anyway so there should be no reason to deny them.


	4. Chapter 4

Once he entered the forth month of his pregnancy, John found himself in front of the mirror more often than not. The curve of his stomach seemed determined to grow almost every day, even if it was only about an inch or a half. It was a bit easier to deal with when he remembered what Barsad had told him. If he thought about it that way then the growth seemed reassuring.

He was pretty sure he wouldn’t feel that way when he was reduced to waddling around, but, for now, he could take it.

The preparations for the nursery, on the other hand, were a little bit more chaotic. He had never imagined that babies needed so much stuff. The only experience he’d had with it had been at the boy’s home, yet there the little ones were mostly stuck with whatever castoffs could be provided.

It was a fate that no child of his would ever have to face, not when the entirety of the league seemed determined to spoil the kid rotten.

“Is it just me,” John said, “or are they competing?” He was in the nursery with Barsad now, watching as the other man settled the latest “supplies” into place. He would have been up helping him if he hadn’t been chasing the kids around all day. 

He was just stubborn enough to push through however tried he might get, but his ankles were another matter. He didn’t even know it was possible for them to get sore so quickly.  
Barsad had only taken one look at him before guiding him into the rocking chair, letting him use one of the smaller boxes to prop up his feet. John probably would have protested more if it didn’t feel so damn good.

“We didn’t expect you to figure it out so quickly,” Barsad said.

John thumped his head off the back of the chair. “Fucking hell.” He scowled at the amused look Barsad shot him over his shoulder.   
“Shut up, it can’t tell what I’m saying yet.”

“Any child of yours will come out brawling regardless I’m sure.” John thought that was a little rich considering what the kid’s other parents were like. “You must permit the men their indulgence. This will be a new arrival into our family as a whole. They want only to show how much he will be loved.”

John looked down at his stomach where the curve was now starting to become unmistakable. Those with slender forms started to show more quickly apparently, according to Amalia. “Or she.” His eyes shifted back up to Barsad. “We still don’t know what is yet.”

“Do you want to know?” Barsad asked.

John shook his head. “I want to be surprised,” he said. “And, besides, we’re gonna end up loving it no matter what it comes out as so what’s the point?”

Barsad’s face looked ridiculously fond at such a statement and John could feel the warmth flooding through their bond. “You’re such a sap,” he muttered, although even he knew he didn’t really mean it. “Leave that alone for a sec and come take care of my ankles, would you?”

Barsad slipped to his knees before John with hardly a second thought. “Your wish is my command, little bird,” he said.

\---

It was drawing close to the end of the month when John found himself lurching awake, unsure of what the cause was. For one terrifying moment he scoured his brain, trying to remember feeling any pain and not wanting to look down at the blankets in case he saw blood on them. But then he realized that, although the sheets were sticking to him, it was because of sweat, not blood.  
He almost felt like he was on the verge of one of his heats. His skin felt all prickly and he could tell from how he shifted that he was starting to grow wet between his legs. The familiar weight of his mates on either side of him felt like it was good but still not enough.

What the hell was going on?

Bane was the one stirred awake first, although Barsad wasn’t much far behind due to John’s sudden wriggling.

“What is it, my bird?” Bane asked. He smoothed his thumb across the swell of John’s stomach, aiming to soothe.

“Feel funny,” John muttered. He felt a stab of guilt when he felt the combined worry of both his mates rush through their bond almost instantly. “No, no, it’s fine, everything’s fine. Just…” He finally gave into the urge to push back against Bane. “I need…”

“Oh.” Barsad shared a meaningful glance with Bane. “Talia warned that this might happen.”

“Warned?” John parroted. “About what?”

“Apparently the hormones in an omegas body can cause their other desires to become stronger.” There was something suspiciously like amusement in Bane’s voice.

“Their other desires,” John said blankly. “How the hell did she come up with something like that?”

“Apparently she has been doing some research of her own,” Barsad said. “She offered to share the books with us if we would like.”

“Oh God, no.” John buried his face in Barsad’s chest, kind of wishing for the world to swallow him up at that moment. He rose his head to glare at Barsad when he felt the man’s body shake with laughter. “It’s not funny.”

“Of course not, little bird.” The humor didn’t leave his eyes, however, and it only increased when John scowled at him. “But you are so lovely like this. It would be a shame not to take advantage of it.”

John’s mouth went dry all at once. It wasn’t like any of them had been celibate for the past four months, but when John finally got to bed he was more tempted to collapse into it than do anything else. Now, though, he was fully willing to take advantage of the suggestion on Barsad’s voice.

“Yes, please,” he said.

“Yes, to what?” Bane’s hand slipped lower, skimming away from John’s underwear when the man tried to thrust up towards his touch.   
“You have to tell us what it is you want, Robin.”

“No, I don’t,” John grumbled. “You already know.”

“No we don’t, little one.” Barsad slid his fingers into John’s hair. “You must tell us what your body craves so that we will know how best to fulfill your needs.” He tugged a little on John’s hair when the man remained mum, making John let out a gasp that certainly wasn’t one of pain. “Come now, surely you can tell us.”

“Fucking…” John swallowed hard. He tried to rut back against Bane, whining when Bane held his hips still. “I just want… Come on, it’s _obvious_.”

Bane squeezed his hips. “John…” It isn’t a command, not really, but it comes out in a low roll that made John go still, mouth suddenly dry.

“I… I want your knot inside of me.” John shuddered against Bane’s rumble of approval, the grip on his hips disappearing so that Barsad can work his underwear off. 

“Is there anything you require of Barsad?” Bane asked.

John was surprised by how quickly the answer came to him. “I want your fingers in me.”

He had managed to look Barsad in the eyes when he said it so he could see the flicker of approval in response to his words. “A simple thing to give, my bird.”

John didn’t even bother coming up with a reply for that, not when Barsad was already pushing a finger inside of him. Unless he was in heat, it would usually take a little while for him to work up past that point. Now, though, it seemed like Barsad was being able to work each finger in within minutes. John didn’t even realize how many he had inside him until Barsad spoke.

“That’s four fingers now.” Barsad skimmed a kiss against his cheek. “Yet you are still so greedy for more.”

John blushed, yet he couldn’t deny it, not when he was already thrusting down onto Barsad’s fingers. “Then give me more,” he demanded.

“Always so greedy.” It was hardly a reprimand, though, since Bane sounded far too fond when he said it. His hands fitted around John’s hips again and John had to bite down on his lower lip when he felt the tip of Bane’s cock nudging against his entrance. “Perhaps there is no need for Barsad to stop.”

“W—What are you…” The rest of John’s words were lost around a groan when Bane pushed inside him. He scrambled to hold onto   
Barsad when Bane picked up a relentless pace almost instantly. He was so lost in the pleasure of it that it took him a few minutes to realize that Barsad was looking far too smug and then to figure out something else out as well.

“Your fingers are still…” Bane cut his words off with a particularly sharp thrust against his prostrate, which really wasn’t fair. “You bastard, your fingers are still inside me!”

There was a wicked grin on Barsad’s face. “Do you not like it, Robin?” he asked. “For we can always stop.” Bane slowed down his thrusts in response, making John squirm.

“I…I…” John shook his head. “You can’t just…”

Barsad’s look of faux innocence wasn’t fooling anyone. “We cannot what?” He canted his fingers up to meet Bane’s thrusts, hitting 

John’s prostrate at almost the same time. “Bring you pleasure?”

“Fucking…” John grit his teeth together. “I just want to come already, damnit!”

“Then let us take care of you,” Barsad said. He claimed John’s mouth in a truly dirty kiss before the other man could come up with anything more to say.

John’s ability to speak was lost eventually anyway because it was hard to focus on anything other then the double thrusts of pleasure inside of him. It seemed like every time Bane’s cock would slip away, Barsad would take it as an opportunity to thrust his fingers up to replace the fading sensation.

It had John whimpering by the end and far too lost to give a damn about it. “Please, please, I need to…” 

Bane rested the grill of his mask against the curve of John’s neck. “Perhaps next time you could take us both in,” he said. “You no doubt relish in such a feeling. Being so filled to the brim.”

Something like that should have freaked John out, really, but instead the mere image of it made him come in a rush.

When he came back down from wherever he was floating out of his head, it was to Barsad lapping his come up from his stomach. He pushed at the man’s head weakly. “Barsad, ew. Just no.”

Barsad only chuckled, placing a kiss to John’s stomach as he licked up the last remnants of his mate’s release. “Too late, I’m afraid.” He winked up at John. “We will have to make sure not to tell our little one.”

John thunked his head back against Bane, groaning as he realized his other mate was laughing as well.

\---

By the next month, things had begun to roll along fairly smoothly. Bane and Barsad still sometimes caught their Robin pouting down at his stomach, but he seemed content by the fact that he hadn’t begun to waddle yet.

The nursery was coming along nicely, although Robin had taken most of the work onto himself with Talia at his side. Robin had some very decided opinions on how things should be setup and Talia oversaw it all with a solemn nature typically only reserved for intense missions.

“It must be perfect,” she would murmur. “We must show the child just how long we have waited for him, how very much they will be loved.” 

She had never questioned her mother’s own love for her, but nothing could erase the fears that she had been a burden upon the woman, part of what had lead to her downfall. 

The upcoming child would carry no such fears. She would make certain of it.

She was the one who took care of selecting what fabrics would help make up the baby’s layette, examining each cloth carefully. Some were taken up with a small smile while others were tossed aside with a certain measure of scorn.

Her expression softened, however, when she pressed a portion of red yarn into Bane’s hands. “I am sure your child will love something made from your own hands.”

Bane stared at the yarn for a long time before his eyes rose to meet Talia’s. “Robin must not know yet,” he said.

“Of course not,” Talia smiled. “It will be our secret.”

\---

It was around the middle of the fifth month when it happened.  
Robin had gone into the bathroom for a soak in the tub, the warm water often helping to relax his muscles, while Bane relaxed on the bed, watching idly as Barsad went through the motions of cleaning his guns.

They felt the sudden burst of shock through their bond before hearing a sharp sound coming from behind the bathroom door, followed by the clattering of something dropping to the ground.

Bane and Barsad were on their feet in an instant, rushing into the bathroom. Neither of them shared the same fears as their Robin, but they were aware of their existence. It would never be discussed unless necessary, yet both knew that they could never blame Robin for losing the child.

Still, there was no pain coming across their bond and there was no horrific scene to greet them inside the bathroom. Instead there was only Robin, clutching his hands to his stomach with a strange look of awe, the bathing tools on the floor around him. 

When he saw his mates his expression grew rather sheepish. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just… It kicked.”

Neither man remembered moving forward, not really but their hands were fitting around Robin’s stomach in only a few seconds making their mate laugh. “You won’t be able to feel it yet,” he said. “Not until the next month at least.”

“But he is moving.” Bane’s voice trembled with the weight of it. “He is alive.”

Robin didn’t try to blink away the glaze of tears that came over his eyes, reaching up to place his hands over those of Bane and Barsad’s. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah, I guess he’s not going anywhere after all.”


End file.
